#i want to let loose. I want to be free. I want to create nonsense from the heart rather than thinking everything through and through

[king-paimon]

I've read up on your blog through a lot of Houseki no Kuni's manga. I liked your analysis though I gotta say come the last chapters, specifically since chapter 95, I didn't always agree with them.

I didn't need the end to be happy sunshine and rainbows, or the opposite, for Phos to go all revenge monster on the gems either. But at the end there, I felt like we all just accepted everything Ichikawa threw at us with no criticism, all that torture flattening the narrative's nuance, and if I didn't like it, I was seeing it through the wrong angle.

I know you don't act like that, which I appreciate. Throught all your reviews, you expressed understanding on why so many people disliked the story. Thank you for that, thank you for not being judgemental. And I'm glad you enjoyed the ride.

I just couldn't help but feel like so many story threads were left lose, and so many complete 180°s were thrown that didn't match the story or it's characters. Some people described it as a self-sabotaged narrative, and I see it. It wasn't enough to give me catharsis - especially with the character set up as the villain getting everything he wanted.

I guess I just had higher standards, which the story didn't meet. That is not a bad thing, after all.

I think my biggest gripe is with how Cairngorm's character was handled, and I'd like to include this here. The ambiguity of their predatory relationship was in poor taste, and remained unaddressed. I can see why so many of my friends left the series when that plot point happened. They deserved better.

Hi @intoxtinction! Thank you for sending me this message and sorry that it took me so long to finally respond. Real life has been kicking my butt and free time to do anything on here is a rarity. But I still wanted to write a response to you because I really loved your response! And yes, I saw the comment you left on my last HnK meta post. You're good; don't worry about it!

Thank you again for your kind words. I'm glad that you like my posts, even if they sometimes become long, nonsensical rambles and especially if you don't agree with some of my points! I love that. Whenever I wrote my posts, I always try to keep an open mind and take into account that all fans are different and would have different views when it comes to works works like HnK. As far as I can see, HnK is one of those works that is supposed to draw up conversations because it's not a simple, straight forward story with clear distinction between black/white moral characters. Everyone who reads it is going to view the events in the story differently based on their own beliefs and even if everyone's views conflict with one another, I think it's fascinating and even wonderful. So even if I may not agree with some fans when it comes to certain aspects of HnK, I never hold it against them. I don't want to demonize anyone for how they interpret the story, at least not too harshly anyways. I know when I'm biased, but I don't let that stop me from at least trying to understand where other fans are coming from. HnK was such a fascinatingly complex and unconventional story, and the fact that it can spur many views and feelings from people is one of the reasons whyI liked the series.

With that being said, however, I also think it's important to be open to properly critique our favorite works. HnK is not immune from these critiques, because for as much as I enjoyed following the story over the past couple of years, there are many aspects in the overall story that were far from satisfying. So many loose ends, incomplete character arches, and questionable story decisions... After being away from the story for some time now, it's become more apparent that there were many aspects to the HnK that has me question Haruko Ichikawa's story telling abilities. Don't get me wrong, she's shown to be a very fascinating storyteller and I overall liked what she created. But when it comes to the incomplete story threads for all of the other characters besides Phos, I can't tell if some of Ms. Ichikawa's decisions were intentionally left up for interpretation or if their stories were just not important to complete since at the end of the day, HnK is about Phos's story. One of these decisions I question the most about is Cairngorm's story arch, so I couldn't agree more with you, @intoxtinction. Cairngorm was done dirty in so many ways and they deserved a more satisfying ending to their story.

I was planning on writing two last posts that would be focusing on these topics. But because life has been kicking my butt too much lately, I don't know when they will be out, if at all at this point. But if I'm able to complete them, I hope you'll get the chance to read them and share your own thought. And again, it's totally fine if you don't agree with my points; I'd still love to read them!

[missamyrisa2]

See having a strong muscle mommy is hot but the fact she is super ticklish and melts into a total weak puddle from feathers on her ticklish royal rod is even hotter. 😏 I just want to tie you down and feather tickle your royal rod all over until you gigglecum multiple times and maybe tickle those cute muscles of yours, oh can't forget tapping on that flower belt 😉

"NNNmmmhhh nuuuuu~~~ you sooo can't dooo that~~ It's not fairrr I'm trying to get resistant to tickles and realllly it just created more tickle spots and somehow seemingly made me more ticklish maybe because my skin tightened a bit I dunno how any of this tickle magic works I just wield it ~~ which maybe is why it comes back for me sooo let's just sayyy that's punishment enough??"

My muscles strain visibly across my arms, pulling uselessly as the feather comes in for another round and my lips tremble with a string of pleas and explanations for the ticklish situation. In a fair fight I might be able to break free, but my strength has been completely sapped under the graze of that impossibly soft tool. With a buck I try to push my full weight forward, and find myself helpless still, begging when your wicked tool comes waving down again.

"Not the featherrrr no more featherrrs!! The rod is polished it's shiny it's nnnnhhh don't tickleee there again~ I can't take it you're making me sparkly tickly and I'm not a fairy I'm a toughieee I'm borderline goth and goths don't tickle cryyyy~"

A tear slips from my eyes just as a giggle moan clears my lips when that supple tool makes contact with my trembling twitching princess part. Coaxed from the safety of hugging my body and standing stiff, the royal rod is forced to take the tickles from all angles. I gasp and twist in my bonds, the regal part bouncing and throbbing in protest when the tool follows and tickles mercilessly ~ especially on the crown. And adding insult to ticklish helplessness, your wicked muscle tickles starts.

"You can't tickle thoseeee why are they ticklish they're supposed to be strong unnnhh I worked hard on that bicep not for you tickleee mmmh it's like a massage but it's ticklesss!!"

I ramble and babble feeling the rubbing touches on my strained muscles, desperately trying to endure and mostly only pushing more to the feather to be edged so sweetly. And then it gets sooo much worse. My body lay naked and restrained, save for that one silly accessory that always ruins me. The flower belt bounces around my midsection, slightly loose around my body but tight enough to ensure I feel every sensation. The metal grazing on my skin makes me squeak and gasp every time. The leather-like material of the band holds my skin to wild sensitivities.

And my words become a string of nonsense when your knowing teasing wiggly fingers begin tapping the metal. "Nnnhhh tapppppssss~ you don't mmmh don't I'm not a pianoooo don't play meeee let's playyyy a gaahahameee how about jumprope the ropes are jumping meee don't flower don't garden petalsss unnhhh princess parrrt!!" My hips buck madly, tummy taut and flexing growing so pink from the teasing. Thighs are quivering, along for the ride when my legs pull uselessly on the bonds and my toes curl giving away my reactions. But my princess part steals the show~ throbbing and giving me away, dewing a tiny princess drop~<3

"nnnhhmhmhhh pleeheheaseeeee just gigglecum meeee~"

[the-rookinator-3000]

Infodump bout the jesters I dare you

(Please make sure you space out your messages or my head will explode in the bad goofy way)

okay! good luck!

the two jesters: the jester of truth and the jester of dreams are basically mythical beings, the same kind as scorn. they aren't exactly worshipped or anything, but they do have their own fair share of legends and myths and stuff like that. one popular legend is that the jester of truth can turn penguins into gold and the jester of dreams can force penguins into an endless slumber, pretty freaky!

JoD and garianna actually have a lot of history, which made JoD feel very attached to the .. insane inventor family because of her. the two were close allies, even so much to convince JoD to make garianna and her entire family immune to his super-cool-yet-kind-of-terrifying powers.

JoD likes to annoy gary because of it, he finds gary very interesting. not just because of his immunity, but because of gary's personality. JoD enjoys gary's presence, but the same can't be said for gary.

JoD has a habit of putting up a facade, specifically one where he is constantly happy and joking! he's spent a lot of time alone (more on that in an actual loredump), which makes him pretty.. how do i say this.. socially-starved, or something? basically, he just likes the company of others. but nobody really enjoys his presence for that long.

JoT is actually a very understanding and calm penguin. it's just that during his party (under the cut), he was really really stressed out.

JoT is blind!

both JoD and JoT have a weird tendency to mention "fools" whenever they talk about themselves. they are jesters, after all.

i wanted to insert the jesters in the same nonsensical fantasy way scorn and skip were introduced; by that, i mean parties! keep reading for a buncha nonsense BAHAHA

JoD would have a party called "The Dream Land Party" which would be foreshadowed by the club penguin times news articles talking about penguins suddenly falling asleep and seeming to not be able to wake up. this would then kick in gary, who intervenes by creating a machine that can look into a penguin's dreams. this is where gary and the player gets teleported into a new area called the "Dream Land Dimension" which is basically like.. JoD's personal box dimension LOL

there, the two of you meet JoD who claims that the penguins drifting off to sleep wasn't his fault, it was merely the cause of his dimension seeping into the real world, and he didn't actually have any ill intention.

there, it plays a lot like the inside out party where you have to look into the mascots' dreams and encapsulate them within JoD's juggling balls (yup! his juggling balls contain dreams!) once you've collected all these juggling balls, then JoD lifts the curse and all of the penguins wake up. happy ending and not too much else to be expected from a club penguin party!

im not just making another operation blackou-

oh.

so the jester of truth's party is more or less just a few specific details, and i loosely connected them.

it starts with gary finding an ancient book in garianna's old home, this book she specifically instructed for nobody to open no matter what, gary leaves the book just... just there only for rookie to find it.

thinking it's an ancient wizard spellcasting book, rookie opens it and accidentally rips out a page. and of course, it frees JoT (more on that in an actual lore dump).

JoT is furious, and turns everybody into gold! rookie and the player have to stop JoT before it's too late, and that includes a really cool boss fight! eventually, they beat JoT, but rookie chooses to just let him be. which ends up with JoT being friendly!

[justanechoflower]

SF: You HESITATED?

Tell me, Classic, and be completely honest.

Do you really want to die? Or do you want to be…

—F R E E?

What you’re doing is guaranteeing your downfall, and then when your Chara kills you, you’ll come back, and she’ll do it again, and again, and again, and again, and again.

She’ll kill you so many times you’ll stop thinking, you’ll wilt away and become an empty husk, devoid of thought.

I’ll say it again.

If you want to live, kill her, fight with the intent to survive and overcome her SELFISH expectations.

Make her regret ever crossing your path, and if you do…

—maybe you can work up the courage to fix all your loose ends.

Maybe you can try fighting me.

*Instantly Flowey creates a barrage of bullets to counter the crystals, upset to be ignored. This is none of Ruby's business.*

I don't want to die like that again! *He shudders at memories, then looks at his two opponents with a deep hate.* I bet I already served enough karma if you added it up already. This is just one measly mistake and you just want an excuse to take it out on me. Both of you! Ruby, Chara!

You're just as messed up as me. You convince yourself you do this for justice sake, that you don't want to do this, but really you enjoy inflicting pain on others all the same.

You are lucky I am letting you talk your nonsense. I do not enjoy having to turn on my brother, but it is necessary.

You never cared for me! Never! Never! Never!

I died for monsterkind. For you. That is not nothing.

Because you hate humans, not because you love us!

You do not know me, Flowey.

*Finally, Chara takes action once again with several combinations of slashes with their knife, missing repeatedly until the blade comes close enough to hitting that Flowey has to grab their hand and hold it back from plunging all the way through his head.*

*While one vine struggles to keep Chara back, another creeps up behind with an aim to kill, but she somehow notices and is forced to leap aside and cut it in half.*

*In the same time as Flowey's attacking vine is chopped, the one holding their wrist pushes Chara's own knife against them, cutting into her side. They cripple for a moment, and even though it's only a second, it gives Flowey another chance to attack, so he slithers a vine around their neck with long, jagged thorns scraping the surface along the way. The other tendril still holds Chara's wrist, preventing them from attacking. Flowey increasingly squeezes harder, and Chara can feel the thorns cutting a little more than a scratch. If it cut deep enough around the neck, it could serve to be fatal after mere seconds that it penetrates the blood vessels on the sides of the neck.*

*Knowing this, Chara uses their other hand to yank at Flowey's vine holding their knife down, which can't cut it, but it gives a bit of wiggle room so Chara can slip her hand out and use it to free her throat.*

*Right before it made contact with the chokehold, Chara suddenly gasps and only a moment later falls forward, sagging limply.*

*Blood runs down the side of their neck and onto Flowey's vine. He immediately lets go with a whiny groan, and with no support, Chara's body falls onto the floor. Flowey stares at it silent for awhile, shaking, but the longer he does the more his emotion evaporates.*

I think they're dead. Alright.

*He turns away* I know you have the timeline since you're here, Ruby. If you bring them back no one can fight anyway.

There's nothing for you here. Leave.

Next ->

[flamboyant-king]

I’ve been hearing different kinds of art advice and I’m torn on them.

Should you go through and finish something even though it doesn’t look good and is flawed in many ways OR scrap the piece and do it a different way/abandon the idea altogether?

[theringers]

often - charles leclerc

summary: you’re unbelievably desperate for your boyfriend all night.

request: Hope u dont mind me requesting #79 and #82 w charles or lando😃 have a good day!!

prompt: 79) "Look at you, grinding against everything, you're really desperate for it. Aren't you?" 82) "Yeah, that's it, baby, just like that."

a/n: this is short & unedited so i apologize for the lack of “story” but this just came to my brain and i needed to write it down so enjoy also sorry if the gif is malfunctioning i’m ready to throw my phone at the window so just ignore lol

warnings: nsfw, dirty talk, 18+, teasing, obvi i had to include some public stuff bc it’s my brand

The live music was loud and blaring through your ears. You had requested a few songs and enjoyed drinks while you waited for the band to get to your request.

Charles stood up from the table to head towards the crowded bar. “Need anything, mon amour?” He looked at you.

You lifted your cup and smiled. “Another?” He nodded at you and walked towards the corner of the room. He knew you had a tolerance like no other and could outdrink him on any occasion. It was just humorous to him at this point.

“Are you excited for your trip?” Your friend asked from across the table.

“Oh, so excited. Charles and I haven’t been able to get away for a long time. It’s much needed.” You sat in your bar stool day dreaming about the blue waters of the Caribbean Sea and how you were about to spend weeks out there on the relaxing water.

Your friend took another sip of her drink. “I’m insanely jealous. Too bad Pierre and I can’t tag along.” She frowned.

“Next time, I promise. We’ll plan a trip just the four of us.” You both started laughing. “Or better yet, just the two of us. Girls trip.”

After a few more laughs, Charles walked up to your table with a drink in each hand. Pierre followed with the same. “Thank you,” you smiled at your boyfriend as he handed you another. You couldn’t remember how many this had been but you were feeling good and really enjoying yourself.

You sat all the way back in your barstool, but kept your drink at the table. This was the best possible solution to avoid drinking too quickly. Every time you needed a sip, you had to scoot yourself closer to the table, take a sip, and sit back. It was working pretty well.

Charles leaned over and spoke in your ear over the sound of the loud music. “I’m going to need you to stop doing that.”

You looked at him, confused. “What am I doing?”

He waved his hand around. “This.” He leaned in closer again. “You keep rocking your hips back and forth and it’s driving me crazy.”

You sat up and moved yourself closer to the table, rocking your hips at a painfully slow, yet discreet, pace. Your eyes found his and his focus was solely on you, sipping the remains of your drink.

“Anyone want another drink?” You asked the table as you hopped out of your seat.

“I’m good, I think I’m ready to head home soon actually. Pretty long day,” Charles said.

Your friend scoffed. “Nonsense, it’s only 11 o’clock.”

Charles looked at her with his head hung, then back at you. “Fine. One more drink.” He looked at Pierre. “See, this is what we have to deal with.”

You waited in the line for drinks and returned to your table. As soon as you scooted back in your barstool, Charles leaned over. “This is our last round of drinks. I’m going to need to take you home after this one.” You didn’t look over at him. You just kept your eyes straight ahead and smiled.

After more casual conversation with Pierre and his girlfriend, Charles called the car home. He took your hand and lead you out of the bar after leaving a hefty tip for the bartender.

Sliding into the back seat of the car, he acknowledged the driver and then went silent. You followed in after him, sliding across the seats. Your short sundress rode up creating friction between your clit and the car seats. You let out a soft moan, but ignored it, hoping no one else heard you. That was not the case.

The car started to move and Charles leaned over to you. He rested his hand on your thigh and whispered in your ear. “I heard that.” It sent chills up your spine.

The rest of the ride was silent, trying to focus on getting home without jumping each other’s bones in the backseat of the car. As soon as you arrived home, you both drunkenly stumbled in the door.

You shouted at Alexa to play some of your favorite music. Often by The Weeknd came out of your speakers.

Charles sat down on the couch with his hands on his knees. A deep breath escaped his lips as he took in the dark apartment around him.

“What’s up?” You asked, walking over to him.

“Long day,” he said. You nodded in response.

Leaning down towards him, you spread your legs to straddle him on the couch. You sat back with your weight on his knees, looking at him. “I love you,” you said to him.

“I love you too, mon amour,” he said. You felt his hands grip your waist. You began to slowly shift your hips around - starting with back and forth, and a little bit of side to side.

“I had a really fun time tonight,” you said.

“Me too, I’m glad we decided to go out.”

“It’s always a good time with them.” You were lucky enough to play matchmaker for Pierre, setting him up with your best friend. It was a win-win. He got a beautiful girlfriend and in return, you got to have your best friend accompany you on vacations, to races, PR events, galas, the whole nine. It was a smart move on your part.

You looked down at Charles, focusing on his messy hair. He was always such a perfectionist about how he appeared, but that all went down the drain when he drank alcohol. You kind of loved it, seeing him let loose a bit and not care so much. You ran your fingers through his messy locks and smiled.

“That dress looks so sexy on you,” he said. His eyes absorbed your body all over and his hands began to move up and down your sides.

“I knew you would like it.” You started to move your hips with more intensity.

“You want to tell me about what happened in the car?” He asked.

“I think you know what happened in the car.”

He had a smug look on his face. “I don’t, actually. Enlighten me.”

“Well, since you want to play dumb,” you grabbed one of his hands off of your side and guided it under your dress. “I’m not wearing any underwear. And I forgot I wasn’t until I slid in the car.” His fingers massaged the skin of your inner thigh.

“That’s hot.” He dipped a finger between your folds and felt the wetness pooling. He swirled his finger around a few times before sliding it inside of you. You moved your hips slowly, meeting his finger. “Look at you, grinding against everything. You’re so desperate for me, huh?” He smirked. You rolled your eyes at him but continued to move your hips. “You couldn’t even help yourself at the bar tonight. Or in the car.”

“I just couldn’t stop thinking about fucking you,” you said. You leaned down to unbutton his pants, grinding your body against his thigh in the process. You let out a moan and he just watched you in awe.

You pulled his pants down, his hard cock springing free. You got back on top of him and hiked your dress up above your hips. You positioned yourself on top of his cock and started to slide back and forth, creating euphoric friction for both of you. Your folds were wet and warm, making him grunt. “Shit, baby,” he said. His head fell back against the couch as he guided your hips. “I need to be inside of you, now.”

You pulled away and quickly sat down on his cock. He kept his hands positioned on your hips as you ground them onto him. You wrapped your arms around his neck and let your head fall onto his shoulder.

You put the weight on your knees and began to bounce up and down on him. He placed his hands on your ass for support. “Oh yeah, that’s it baby,” he said. “Just like that.” A throaty moan escaped your lips right into his ear.

“You feel so good,” you said. The rhythm continued and he spread your cheeks. He was itching to pound into you but he loved the way you looked bouncing on his cock.

He reached for the strap of your dress, pulling it down to expose your breasts. He took one in his hand and massaged it roughly. “Shit, babe. Look at you riding my cock like such a good girl.” He wasn’t one to talk dirty too much, but with alcohol involved he was an open book.

“I’m all yours, baby,” you said, leaning back. You ran your hands through your hair while riding him and made eye contact with him - driving him crazy.

You could feel him start to thrust up into you, an indication that he was getting close. You leaned back down to his ear. “Cum for me, baby,” you said.

He finished with a grunt and a tight grip on your hips. You rolled off of him and laid your head down on a pillow. After all that alcohol, the couch was seeming like a perfect place to crash.

Charles returned with a towel and a glass of water for you. “You did so well, baby. That was hot.” He said, smiling at you and handing you the glass of water.

You giggled and stuck your tongue out. “You’re welcome.”

[mystic-kitten-writer]

Ok this kinda embarrassing and the first time I’ve requested anything but, yk how you mentioned public bedding in ur zuko x of pinned post. Do you think u could write something abt that? Obviously no pressure and if ur uncomfy just ignore me.

Oh, love, don't be shy! I promise, you're welcomed here and free to drop an ask or request anytime~

And, it's your lucky day, because the public bedding may or may not be canon in Limerence 👀 Hence, here are tiny snippets of my rough drafts if I were to write this. Because it's totally not canon Zuko and Yue get married or something and this happens- totally doesn't happen 🍵

AU: Limerence, Bedding Teasers

Pairing: Zuko x Fem. OC (Ying Yue Jiang)

Masterlist

Shy, straddling Zuko’s lap with an intense blush.

His fingers were gliding over my arms, feeling the fabric that decorated my skin. I was so nervous, trembling, unable to stop fiddling with the band of his pants as my hands rested over the space between us. Our noses were just touching as his warm breath fanned over my skin.

“Love, we don’t have to do this.” Zuko hummed, a charming smile of comfort.

I could feel his warmth through the sheer fabric, my head tilted upwards as I stared at Zuko’s lips.

Today was the most magical day in my life.

The vows, the dancing, dressing up as a princess of my dreams while my dads and everyone else cheered and celebrated. Everyone I cherished, I loved, family and friends were all there for me.

But most importantly, I can finally call Zuko, my husband.

Dreaming of this moment since the day I laid eyes on him, an instant connection I never thought one could experience. I bit my lip, a silence filling the room that for a moment, the fact that there was a crowd behind us was forgotten.

Purposely making my back face them, as I sat over Zuko’s legs, hugging his thighs. My touch was easing its way up to his chest, enjoying the feeling over his skin under me as I caressed the faint scars that littered.

I was tired, exhausted from all the emotions, but seeing Zuko like this. Shirtless, hair loose, my blush deepened.

There wasn’t a doubt in me that I was nervous, but another part was so curious. Memories of every time we had almost been caught while we were having fun; from the quickies in the study, the garden. The thrill, idea, of someone watching us.

“Just what are you thinking about,” Zuko purred, his finger tapping my lips, and I realized how heavy my breathing had begun.

Wetness beginning to grow and stain the front of my panties, embarrassed at how I had just been caught fantasizing. But the smirk on Zuko’s face grew before rolling his hips against mine.

My eyes widened, hitching a breath because he was hard.

The head of cock, rubbing against my core, causing the fabric of my panties to rub against me. I bit down a moan, my head tilting downwards as my eyes fluttered shut at the sudden bolt of pleasure.

“A-ah, Zuko-” I shyly stumbled and Zuko groaned, bucking his hips against me, causing me to tense as my mouth to part.

“I haven't even fucked you yet, and look at them.” Zuko chuckled into my ear as I arched my back against his chest. The arm that looped over my knee stopped me from pressing my legs together, twitching as his finger continued to tease.

I struggled to breathe, head tossed as my hips jerked, seeking his touch as he flirts with my cunt.

His cocky smirk pressed against my neck, loving how my eyes fluttered shut when he rolled my clit. It was a touch that left one to desire, his fingers on either side, sliding back and forth. The slickness that drips between my legs, a puddle of my cum pooling underneath.

"It's so sensitive-" I gasped.

But my movements, the whine that left my lips, it was such a contradiction. My hips are rolling, despite pleading, another knot building.

"Mmm, but look love. They want to see, see how you gush for me."

His words were a demand, and my body obeyed. Forcing my gaze to lift, meeting the eyes in front of us. It was too much, body flushing red, breathing hitched, "They're all staring at you, love."

Zuko's right. Shifting in their spots, faces twisted in a mixture of arousal and shame. Unable to look away, but they continued to stare, to gawk. Hypnotized by how I twitch and arch, humping Zuko’s hand out of desperation to feel more.

A few of them letting their palms rest in front of them with flushed cheeks, their knees buckling. They were- I gasped as Zuko let his fingers spread my folds, his middle finger happily rubbing that pleasurable button.

The robe that barely stayed on my shoulders finally began to tumble, bunching at my elbows as I tried to muffle my cries. It felt good, so overwhelming and Zuko groaned into my ear.

I was unintentionally rubbing against his bulge nestled perfectly behind my ass.

"Fuck, at this rate, they're not gonna make it for the best part," Zuko snickered as he stared at the audience that daringly got closer. Bucking into the fabric of their clothes, just how Zuko rutted me from behind. Groaning as I pushed myself further into his embrace, wanting to feel the heat from his body, how his cock twitched.

No longer bothering to hide their stares, they saw my toes curl, my hands falling over Zuko's thighs as my pitch grew. My nails dug into the fabric of his silk robes as I struggled to contain my moans. A wave of embarrassment at the eyes that watched, but it was intoxicating.

So dirty, yet I couldn’t stop making a mess-

"They're so fucking thirsty, love. They look like you, drooling. Wishing to know how you taste. Should I let them?"

I shook my head, gasping as his rubbing never stopped but rather got more intense. My hips were jerking into his hand, "N-no."

"Mmm, and why not, love?"

"Cause I only want you," I whined, and Zuko chuckled into my ear, placing possessive kisses over my neck. Humming in utter bliss, his kisses turning into bites. The sting after his teeth left marks over my skin, arching further as his touch began to speed up.

My arms reached before me, hands gripping whatever I could.

Skin dewy, sweat beading down my forehead as another moan left my lips. Zuko's hands along my hips were deathly tight, forcing my hips upwards while he grunted.

One sharp thrust, his balls slapping against my cunt, that sent a wave of pleasure up my spine. All I could do was gasp his name out because it felt so damn good.

With every roll, it felt like Zuko went deeper, my walls squeezing him painfully because every drag of his cock was causing me to shudder. A new orgasm was building before I could even process the last.

The sounds of our breathing grew, and the intensity only increased as my eyes darted upwards, another wave of guilty pleasure washing over me because everyone was watching so intensely.

The looks of pained struggle on the guards’ faces, giving up entirely of not trying to watch. Their mouths hanging, eyes glued at how I gasped and cried out. My hair was a chaotic mess as Zuko tugged, beckoning me closer, loving how my back arched into him.

“Fuck, you love this, don’t you, love?” Zuko hissed as he felt me clench around him.

I whined, wanting to hide my face in shame because it was so painfully true. Everyone heard my times with Zuko, my screams, my begs. But for them to see, witness first-hand what they were always curious about.

Tears bubbled because I could feel myself tensing around Zuko’s cock, my breath caught in my throat.

“Again?” Zuko teased before his hand began to snake down my hips over my stomach. My eyes widened, already knowing what his plan was, and I shook my head desperately.

“D-don’t, Zuko. I-I’ll-”

Skimming down my stomach, already finding what he was seeking. The pads of his fingers happily parting my folds to let his fingers rest on my clit. His thrusts were growing, using my body to pump himself, hitting that spongey part inside of me that had me seeing stars.

My vision was getting spotty, trying to speak words, but I was merely blubbering nonsense. Zuko was cooing into my ear, encouraging, excited to see me break- “Cum for me.”

I could feel myself gush around him like a dam breaking, his thrusts never stopping, his fingers continued to rub furiously. It was a loud scream as I could feel my juices drip down my legs, painting his with my cum, and Zuko could only groan from behind as I squeezed him.

“Fuck, baby-”

“I-I can’t stop.” I cried, my body convulsing, another wave hitting me, “Maybe this will be a nighty thing, fucking you in front of a crowd. Having you cockwarm while we’re in meetings.”

And my cheeks continued to burn because the thought didn’t seem frightening but a blessing at this point.

Copyright © 2021 Mystic-Kitten-Writer, inc. all rights reserved. No reposting, modifying, or translations of any kind are allowed. Thank you for your cooperation.

Disclaimer: I do not own any Avatar characters besides any original characters I have created.

Cross-posted on Ao3/Tumblr/Quotev/Wattpad to discourage plagiarism.

❤ Buy me a coffee? ❤

[moonlight404-translates]

A3! Izumida Azami | R - Fallen Blood | Translation

Quote: “A janitor needs cleaning implements, right?”

Thanks for sharing the backstage with me RL, and thanks A4! friends for your help with a line!! (´｡• ᵕ •｡`)

--------------------------

Disclaimer: Neither English nor Japanese is my native language, but I did my best with the translation. If you find any mistakes, feel free to tell me. By the way, Director’s name will be Izumi.

Inventions Survey /1

Taichi: A-chan, your inventor role in this play is so, so cool~!  Azami: Yeah, but what is kinda good for its role study?  Taichi: Isn’t inventing something perfect for it?  Azami: Inventing… that’s like making a thing, right? Taichi: Exactly! You can get a hint for your role by creating something. Even a small one could work! Yuki: Ah, you’re still awake. Don’t you say lack of sleep is bad for the skin? You should go to sleep soon.  Taichi: Nice timing, Yuki-chan! Is there something you want that A-chan can make?   Yuki: Something I want to make it? Azami: Ah, you see—

Yuki: Oh, I get it now. Role study, huh? Taichi: Something practical could work~! Or, if you have a request, you can also say it! Azami: There’s a limit to what I can make, though.  Yuki: Hmm… I want a new sewing machine? Taichi: A sewing machine!? Azami: Hey, did you hear what I said, Yuki-san? Yuki: I’m joking.  Taichi: You really caught me…!  Yuki: If you’re that lost about what to make, why don’t you make a survey asking everyone what they want?  Azami: A survey?  Yuki: Yeah. I made one for my kunoichi role study during the ninja play.  Taichi: Ah~! I remember that!  Azami: I see…  Azami: Well, I don’t know if there’ll be proper answers, but it can be a reference. I’m gonna try it out.

Azami: Do you have a minute? Tsuzuru: What’s wrong, Azami? Azami: I want you to answer this survey to take as a reference for my role study.  Homare: Oh, and about what is it?  Azami: On this paper, you can write something practical or something you want me to make. Citron: Oh~! It sounds fun~!  Banri: Anything can go there?  Azami: Whatever you think I can make is good.  Azuma: I understand. Fufu, now what should I write?

Inventions Survey /2

Taichi: I brought the spring troupe’s surveys!  Yuki: Here are the summer troupe’s ones.  Azami: Thank you. We gathered all the answers. Now, let’s check them.  Taichi: Then, let’s start~! The first one says… “something to stop the snores from a roommate.”  Azami: Hah? That’s from Banri, no doubt… Taichi: Hmm. Ban-chan has tried many ways to stop them. It seems hard to invent something for it.  Yuki: Let’s leave that one aside for now. Next one. “An item to make me the one for them (but only me).” Azami: …What do they think an inventor is? A wizard or something…?  Taichi: Then, next one! “A triangle thought up by Azami!” Azami: Yeah, that’s so loose. I mean, that doesn’t seem like an invention, does it? Next, please. Yuki: “A robot that goes to the company instead of me.” Azami: I told them to write something that I can make!  Taichi: “A robot that automatically cleans and does the laundry and also writes the documents for me.” Yuki: …Yep, he’s a useless manager. Azami: And no one hears what others say!

Azami: All of them are nonsense. I can’t use any.  Yuki: Well, most of the answers in my survey were like that too.  Azami: Sigh… To be honest, I can’t come up with a helpful invention easier for me, either… Taichi: Ah! What about Sakyo-nii’s one, A-chan? Azami: Haah? Why that guy— Azami: And he wrote “a backscratcher.” What is he? An old man? Yuki: However, it might work as something practical.  Azami: No way. Besides…  Azami: …!  Azami: Yeah… you know what? I’m gonna go with this one.  Taichi: Huh? Azami: Now that I chose that, let’s quickly prepare the tools.

Azami: —Hey you, shitty blonde four eyes. Here, I give you this. Sakyo: Aah? Hey, don’t throw away your things.  Azami: I took the time to make that, don’t complain about it.  Sakyo: This is… a backscratcher?  Azami: You really are an old man.  Sakyo: I just put something easy to make and understand.  Sakyo: However, is this well made? Let’s find it out now…  Sakyo: …? Sakyo: Hey, this... I was wondering why my itch isn't going away but now that I look at it, isn't the tip made of rubber?! Azami: Pft… Sakyo: Bon, you…  Sakyo: Sigh… If you can make this to annoy me, use those abilities for something else!

----------------------

Note: Yuki’s Shinobi Card Backstage has his survey experience. 

[lupically]

#64B784 | XIAO.

genre | fluff

word count | 1437

warning | none

the karma that xiao was bound to was what he considered as his duty.

the senselessness and pain left from the god he used to fight for, alongside his once companions who have all either fallen into the depths of a spiraling madness or their final demise, one which he has been bound to for years and years, was part of his responsibility as an adeptus.

for someone as miserable as him, to exist is to suffer.

it was exactly that—that dutiful and lonely side of him—that made him deem all sympathy and sorrow an unnecessary part of life, especially when they were directed toward him.

but, no matter how many times he told you that, you never seemed to listen to him.

"i'm fine," xiao huffed out lowly when you sat him down on a chair.

"no, you are not fine!" you hissed through semi-gritted teeth as you rushed about and searched the inn's kitchen for bandages.

he watched as you fumbled around the room, looking for aids to tend to his battle wounds, which you saw have a mixture of black– and teal-colored aura wafting off of his battered skin. you were agitated in, as well as with, the process; xiao could all see, hear, and feel it. from the way the cabinets flew open in a frenzy, to the curses that adorned your once innocent tongue.

the demon mask still covered his face, but if you knew him well enough, which you did, you would know the expression he has on underneath—furrowed brows, pursed lips, sharp eyes, yet somehow expressionless still. he understood not one bit of your response to seeing him, not the shown panic nor the hidden tears.

to him, he needed neither and he deserved neither.

"[name], there is no reason for you to fret," xiao said calmly. "getting hurt is part of the job. there is no use for you to keep worrying about me like this."

"stop talking, xiao, i need to concentrate." you promptly ignored your friend as you grabbed a chair, pulled it before him, and sat down.

you took his hand in yours before placing it on your lap. concentrated on unrolling the bandages and wrapping them around xiao's forearm, which did not stop the demonic energy from spreading into the air, you tried not to let both the sorrow and the anger get to you; sorrow because he has to continuously get hurt like this, anger because he refuses to let you take care of him.

"you are fussing over nothing," xiao continued despite what you said.

you wanted to scoff, but you had anticipated his stubbornness (usually mistaken in the form of being straightforward) to argue back whenever you talked of showing him mortal kindness.

it would be strange of you to assume you could get the yaksha to shut up as you will him to. but, to be frank, and unbeknownst to you, if anybody could get xiao to stop talking those upsetting nonsense for once, there would only be you.

"this is hardly nothing, you are very hurt," you said.

"pain and suffering is–"

"–part of the duty of being a yaksha," you finished off for him just as you stick the bandage together. you did not let go of his hand when you finished, only you held it in your hands loosely and looked up at his demon mask. "i know that."

he did not move. he only looked at you behind the green mask. "then you know that as a yaksha, i need no sympathy or tears."

"i know that as well," you said. "but i'm sorry because i don't agree."

he heaved a soft sigh. "why must you make things difficult for me."

"what is difficult?" you asked then, slightly tightening your grip on his hand as you glanced down at your lap. you furrowed your brows; your hands were almost the same size, with his being only a tad bit bigger. "what about accepting kindness is so difficult for you?"

you never talked about it before. the fact that xiao seemed to have the eternal perception that he deserves nothing good because he constitutes the bane of all evil, to which you heavily disagreed with evidence that he was one of the people who kept liyue safe all these years despite not being fond of the place itself, as well as anybody living in it.

(well—exaggeration. he is fond of you, but he has yet to let you know that.)

it was a decision you regretted to not talk about his little to no self-worth with him earlier because if you could let him understand how he deserves so much more, you would have wanted to do that as early as possible. but you let it dragged on each time as you worried about the scars and blood scattered across his body.

"xiao, do you know what mortals do the best?"

that certainly took him by surprise. hundreds and hundreds of years on this earth and he could not tell you a single thing. was it the growth of civilization, or the booming marketplace, or the amazing architectures, or perhaps even the literary and artistic excellence? he did not know anybody enough to understand and find the question to your answer.

"we love, xiao," you said. "mortals love. that is the single thing we do best. everything else is just what comes with it."

it was only through love. everything was made out of love.

people grow to find a love of their own and create their own family; money goes round and round so sons and daughters can get a new toy and friends can eat street food together; houses are built to keep families warm and safe, houses are built to become filling homes of one or more persons; poetry and art have the image of a young lady and the nostalgia of a passed pet woven seamlessly in paintbrushes and ink.

everything humans do is out of love—for money, for power, for safety, for happiness, for others.

"it is the best thing we do," you whispered, "so forgive me if i have to worry about you from time to time. loving you is what i do best, xiao."

you were looking into his eyes now—well, the eyes of his demon mask, which, thank the archon that he still had it on. he needed it to hide the part of himself that was human, the part of him that was vulnerable, the part of him that was waiting for himself to fall into reckless abandonment and began to fall in love with you so fiercely that the demon aura spiraling off his skin would turn into the shade of red blush.

the unwavering sincerity, as well as gentle affection hidden beneath your eyes, the affection he never thought anyone would have for him—oh, how alarming they were for xiao to look into.

they made it so easy to believe that there was more than just a fraction of him that was capable of being human, that it wasn't just his body and his face that was mortal.

they made it so easy for him to feel treasured, and for him to love others, to love you.

"[name]..."

somehow he thought he ought to take his mask off. he thought he ought to reciprocate the way you were pouring your soul out for him. he reached his free hand up and carefully removed the demon mask off his face, showing you his softened eyes.

his heart beat inside his body; this is him revealing himself to you, the part of him that is human.

"you have my thanks," he whispered as he closed his eyes, his head tipping as if to bow. “for everything.” 

(everything, but mostly for making him fall in love.)

you sucked in a shivered breath, surprised but glad that he was taking a step to accept your care. you leaned forward to him, bumping your forehead against his with a precious grin that showered down his entire world.

xiao opened his eyes to look closely at you, and he let himself breathe out a small smile as he lovingly (the fact lost on both him and you) examined your features.

the chain of karmic debt... how laughable. compared to the grip you have on his heart, which he doubted he would be struggling out of anytime sooner, compared to the blooming affection he holds for you—what is the archon, to the love of his life? what is god, to you?

nothing.

[dienamights]

Ellipsism | K.Bakugou

Ellipsism: A sadness that you’ll never be able to know how history will turn out.

» Pairing: Katsuki Bakugou x Fem!Reader.

» Word count: 1.9K

» Genre: Angst 

» Summary: In a world where everyone is born with a unique tattoo on their ankle, and every time they fall in love with someone, their tattoo appears somewhere else on the body of the person they love. You come to the realization that it might not be as simple as that, and all your childhood dreams would come and bite you in the ass.

» Warning(s): ANGST, mentions of self-harm.

» Author’s notes: Listen, I don’t particularly like angst, but I love the way it hurts, y’know? Not sure if I want this to have a happy ending or not (in a second part) and honestly I’m leaning towards the latter, I love pain and I have no idea what would happen. Also, peep the “tattoo” in the header its relevant to the story ahaha

Thank you everyone for the support and love, it means the world to me that people enjoyed my Kacchan representation! Lemme give you smooches.

Big smooches to @tteokdoroki and @sightoru for making me feel good about hurting them🤧❤️

» Masterlist | Requests

The sun had awakened and was promptly emerging through the hazy sky. The cloudy layer created a gloomy blanket from the sun. You jolted awake, your neck aching from your sleeping position and you twisted your head side to side to relieve some of the pain, before reaching for your phone and holding the bright screen to your face to check the time. Alas, the screen was turned off without registering the time nor how long were you asleep for.

You lifted your eyes to see the grey out the window in front of you. With that fog, the trees and buildings never ended, they floated upwards, seemingly as endless as beanstalks. Reaching your head back, it met the wooden counter. You were in the kitchen, fell asleep on the floor and slumped against the counters, the empty bottle laying across from you a reminder of the event that transpired the previous night - maybe morning? You didn't really know.

You lazily extended your legs in front of you, eyeing your sock-clad feet and the tattoo that peaked from the clothing. Blooming lilacs that danced and branched out, the stem wrapping around your ankle oh so loosely, almost teasingly. Lilacs that represented happiness and tranquility, which you have never felt more far from. 

Remembering the old days, the better days, you with your poofy dress, so blindingly pink it demanded everyone's attention, giggling with your friends that adorned similar attire to yours, showing each other the tattoos that hugged your ankles, in endless shapes and sizes, dreaming about who the lucky person you’ll share your tattoo with would be, who was lucky enough to capture your heart and claim it as their own, and offering theirs in return.

Bedtime stories were your favorite quality time with your mother, where you’d both forget about the story cradled in her hands and you’d spend your night tracing the few tattoos that scattered across her arms. Asking her how could she love so many people and have them love her in return before loving her husband - your father - the only person she was meant to be with, only to wait with bated breath for an answer you already heard so many times you probably memorized it by now. You’d be entranced at the way her eyes always softened, a light gleaming in them as she would explain to you, again and again, with no sign of ever getting bored, how she have never and would never regret the people she loved, because in some twisted way of the universe, it led her to the father of her beautiful child, that snuggled her in her princess bed. 

Alas, asking her how you came to the world received a totally different reaction, and you refrained from asking her that again until later on in life.

Whenever your grandma visited, you’d run to hug her old and withered body, apologizing when she would howl about her aching back and dragging her to sit with the excuse to help her rest, but you both knew you wanted to hear stories, your teenage self was so ready to fall in love, so excited to have a piece of someone you adored with all your heart decorating your skin, inking it in the most beautiful forms of promise.

She always made her past lovers sound like prince charmings right out of a novel, the kind of guys with the power and confidence that seemed perfect in every way. The kind of guys schoolgirls woke up and went to school for in the morning. The kind of guys that hit women of all ages right between the eyes every time they were seen and stirred up their fantasies.

And by God, did you not realize that your grandmother wasn't spewing bullshit after all these years, because there he was, a storm in each step he took, fire in his knuckles erupting and seething with fierceness. He was an explosion of bare, raw, real mystery. A soft caress of the wind, warm sand, and pure silence. He was colors and textures and shapes and designs, all combined together in an artistic canvas that thrived for attention but wouldn't stoop to admitting it. 

You remembered the day your lilacs embellished his shoulder, shyly peeking through his hero suit, claiming everyone’s attention on their petals as they swayed on his skin, the attention of the media as the shoulder of the hero, Dynamight, was showcased on social media, people envying whoever was able to capture the exploding hero’s heart.

As if he wasn’t capable of love, they didn't see what you saw, they will never have the privilege, because when he dropped the façade of the hero, he’d come home to you, knock on your apartment door and you’d flee to open it to him to lay your eyes on him, a tired laugh, sore muscles, a teasing glint in crimson eyes, golden hair tasseled after a sleepless night. He was secure embraces oozing with warmth. He was toughness and hardness, perfectly mixed in with trust and care.

It was at that day it happened, in the middle of the living room while the newsman was talking nonsense about the hero, the warmth wrapped around your wrist, gripping it like a vice with no intention of letting go; yes it burned, you remembered the sting, it just paled in comparison to the warmth in your chest, the warmth of the tears escaping your eyes as you held your wrist close to your chest, happily whispering about how this was what love felt like. You also recalled that it was at that exact moment the hero, your hero, walked into your apartment, dropping everything and running the small distance to your hunched body to grab at your wrist to inspect the damage he thought was done to it.

Only for his eyes to meet that one wretched inking he loathed all his life, the - meaningless doodles, he’d call them - that blemished his skin, he remembered the remarks, how no one would be able to share that blotch of his with him because who could ever love him? Who could ever endure him, with all of that ego and all of that anger? And as time passed, he believed it, he believed them, that he wasn’t worthy to be loved, that he was only meant to save, not be saved as well, not even from himself.

But there you were, there you fucking were, crying and laughing and struggling to breath as you repeated the words you’ve been dying to confess, 

“I love you, Katsuki.”

Suddenly, that speckle that was always hidden under his socks brought him happiness, brought him love, and damn did he deserve it, because he fought for it, he endured hell for it, and there you were, wrapped around his arm and repeating those three words against his lips between heated kisses.

He was pleasure and lust. Rough groans and mutual needs. A burning touch. Your name hanging by his lips, breathless kisses and hair-tugging and hot flesh against hot flesh.

He was an illusion you thought it'll never materialize, and yet here he was. 

Here he was, all highs and lows, smiles and frowns, softness and roughness, carefulness and danger. Here he was, a tiny spark of thunder, sparkling with passion, loyalty and dedication, protection, satisfaction, confidence and love.

Here he was…

Where was he?

The inking you used to spend hours admiring now haunts you, the design that used to whirl and twirl across your wrist as you hummed while tracing it now felt like shackles, squeezing so tight against you as you tried to break free. The black almost shrouded by the coats of metallic red that spilled from your attempts of escape. The dark crimson that matches his eyes, the eyes you know you won't forget, you know you don't want to forget, no matter how you’ll feel better if you do.

The girl staring right at you through the distorted reflection created by the dishwasher judged you, all mangled and blurry, yet the tear stains and numb eyes are hard to ignore, easily cutting through the deformed reflection.

You and the girl in front of you envied your friend, the aromantic that was never interested to fall in love, only possessing their own tattoo that graced their ankle, with no one else's accompanying it, sure it looked lonely on some days, but who were you to judge?

You remembered what they always told you, that it wasn't always the fairy tales your family fed you. They told you about their mother, who had an affair and fell in love, spending almost a year hiding the tattoo of her fling from her husband before being caught, they told you how their father was broken beyond repair, he who also was so drunk on the idea of falling in love and being loved in return, just like you were for all those years. They told you of the heart break that you might have to face when your partner’s inking is embedded into you, but not the other way around, how you had to decide whether to wait for your own personal design to mark its location onto them or leave, always being haunted by the part of them that you can't get rid of, no matter what you do.

They never told you about this kind of heartbreak though, the one where you’re both so in love, so happy, destined to be together forever, because what could possibly go wrong?

You never got the answer to that, you remembered asking him as he dragged his suitcase out of the apartment, the tears cascading down his face never answered you as he apologized again and again, mumbled how you deserved to be loved by someone that wasn’t him, babbled about him not deserving you. About how he won’t ever love someone besides you when he caught your eye scanning whatever was visible of his arms, in fear of finding out a piece of someone that wasn't yourself.

You finally got up, legs numb and steps wobbly from sitting on the floor for so long, you eyed the door, still unlocked after his leave a couple of hours ago - maybe more it's still unclear - no urge of yours strong enough to get you up to lock it again. You moved slowly, as if the shuffle of your feet is causing you pain, and in a way, it did, because you know when you reach the living room couch, there won't be the warm arms that engulfed you, because what else did you have other than the warmth you surrounded yourself with when you told him to hold you close to him?

That's right, nothing. 

As you laid down on the couch and allowed yourself to be suffocated by the scent of caramel, you cursed at all the fantasies and dreams that clouded your mind day and night, you frowned and scrunched your nose at the scent that used to mean love and warmth, but now only burnt your nose and teared up your eyes.

A constant reminder, just like the defaced wrist you brought closer to inspect and hissing when the cold air bit at it. You recalled the lilacs and swore at them, the same lilacs that symbolized love and passion, but looking more withered and torn the more you looked at them.

Good, guess they know how I feel.

Borrowers (taglist):

if you want to be tagged with for any of my fics let me know ♡

[frogmutual]

Rabigender (Small Update)

Hi everyone so im here to present a gender I’ve created based on my life experience and my very complex gender identity! I’ve come up with a good name and reasoning behind it so here it is

RABIGENDER

Rabigender is inherently linked to neurodivergency in some way. It is a gender in which you feel a deep connection to being feral in some ways combined with the intense alienation that being neurodivergent caused you.

This gender experience may also be heavily tied with therianthropy / being otherkin.

Through being neurodivergent, you may of had a much more difficult time understanding the principle of gender and the expectations of gender roles from a young age which could of gotten you in trouble or discriminated against.You may even feel now, as a teen/young adult/adult, that you still fail to grasp the importance of gender and what gender is really supposed to mean.

Following that, it is very common for young neurodivergent people to feel incredibly alienated from their peers and be treated like a pet or even a wild animal.

This only gets worse with bullying when neurodivergent children would feel a connection to animals and play pretends- which lead to even more bullying and mistreatement and being taunted very often.

It’s not an uncommon experience for young neurodivergent people to have felt like their existence was being a circus animal to their peers, being made fun of while being totally unaware that they are basically holding a “Pet status”.

Someone who is rabigender reclaims the experience of being treated in such ways, reclaiming their connection to animals/animalistic interests and also by letting loose and finally accepting to full extent their neurodivergency by indulging fully in their ‘less accepted’ stims or special interests, also indulging in animalistic behavior as a way to freely express themselves.

People who are rabigender have always felt a certain connection to animals or neogenders/neopronouns connected to animals but may have felt that it was much deeper than that. Instead of a gender, they may of felt it was more of an full identity. Something much deeper and related to their life experience and neurodivergency.

With this gender, you reclaim all negative experiences and make them yours to own and be proud of. You may identify as any sexuality you want and use any pronouns you want. Rabigender is an umbrella term for people who feel like just neopronouns doesn’t quite cover their experience of gender.

When identifying as rabigender, you acknowledge the complexity of your gender and the fact there will probably never be a full understanding even from yourself because due to neurodivergency your grasp of gender will never be the same as neurotypical people.

Rabigender is a very complex and intense experience that feels all over the place and even nonsensical to most, hence why it feels nearly characteristic or rabies.

This gender allows you to reclaim all frustration and limits you had to put on yourself and free yourself of having to mask or hide parts of who you are- going fully feral and accepting yourself for who you are with no more care of what others may think.

To sum it up:

You let go of masking, you reclaim your interests, stims, connection to animals, and you give a big fuck you to society!

You may also align/identify with precise animals while still using this gender- for example I am Rabigender Canine Aligned! (Most precisely wolves and dogs).

Go Feral!! Go Rabid!! Lose it!!

You are free with this gender.

Dark red is meant to represent the repression of anger/rage at the ways you have been put down all your life

Light red is meant to represent the feralness you allow yourself now

Grey is for the grey and undefined area of your complex gender experience. Hence the ‘grey area’.

White is to express how this gender is under the nonbinary umbrella!!

The second grey stripe is to represent connection/alignments to precise animals.

Light brown is for freedom

Dark brown is for feeling a more solid and grounded sense of self now that you’ve accepted parts of yourself that were once denied.

[justasimplesinner]

Is it cool if I request headcanons for arkhamverse bane and croc (not poly), mad mod with an s/o that loves to draw/crochet and play video games?

i'm writing this drunk as fuck so sorry in advance if it's complete nonsense

Arkhamverse!Bane with a handiwork maker/gamer hcs:

he's honestly not much of a creative guy, but he can appreciate honest work. and he thinks you're so cute when you're all focused on crocheting or dirtied up with paint as you create yet another masterpiece. despite the whole thing not being quite his cuppa tea, he's supportive of what you do and appreciates that you've taken up such a hobby. and he may not be really interested in learning it, even if you're the teacher, but he's incredibly fond of having you lay on his chest or just sit in his lap as you crochet or sketch. that way, he gets to be close to you and watch you work, and you're free to do what you like while also spending time with him

the situation is pretty similar with gaming - he's not all that into it. why play sports on the screen when you can do it in real life or just watch a game? however, if you ever taught him how to play, he'd actually find it quite fun to play sports games, especially if you two can play against each other. it's not that he's hella competitive, he just finds it hilarious how invested and animated you get further into the game. when it comes to other games, he'd prefer to just watch you play through all of them. he has to admit, some games have beautiful graphics and even better plots with lots of side quests. and, yet again, if you chose to use him as your personal pillow, he'd be more than happy to accomodate you

Arkhamverse!Croc with a handiwork maker/gamer hcs:

he's not familiar with neither crocheting nor painting. of course, he did draw some things as a kid, but he was never really talented or appreciated for it, so he stopped pretty soon. but he's surprisingly curious to watch how you do it. he likes watching your hands while you're crocheting, they're hypnotizing for him. and it always brings him back to that time you made him a scarf for winter and sprayed it with your perfume so he'd feel like you were there with him even when you were away. and, despite grumbling and protesting weakly, he adores when you make him paint with you. he's not really good at it, and he mostly uses his hands because holding a small brush between his claws is pretty hard, but it's great bonding time for the two of you. he loves that he can just let loose and splash some paint on canvas. and he will get shy (although his idea of getting shy is turning his head away and grumbling under his nose) if you decided to paint/sketch him

when it comes to games, he's kinda on the fence - on one hand, he always wanted the computers/consoles other kids had as a child, so he could play and have fun too but was too poor, but on the other, it's quite literally impossible for him to operate on a controller/keyboard because of his size, and he gets frustrated. so, he settles for curling around you and serving as your personal couch and watching you play. he mostly just falls asleep during those times tho. but he gets to have you in his arms and you can indulge in your hobbies, so what more is there to want?

Mad Mod with a handiwork maker/gamer hcs:

oh, this motherfucker would be so into crocheting. he absolutely adores fashion and everything involving it, and he will gladly crochet with you. he'll make a lot of clothes designs and have you help him figure out how to make it. it's surprisingly fun, and he's very patient, so he can sit with you for hours. and he's also quite the art conessieur! the second he learns you paint, he'll drag you to his favourite art galleries and take you to shows, he'll sit with you as you paint and talk with you, even be your muse! he'll gladly help you in any way he can. and he will absolutely get flustered if you actually decide to sketch him. he has a surprisingly low self-esteem for someone so proud and full of himself, and it really warms his heart that you think him so handsome and noteworthy you decide to include him in your art

and about gaming, despite his old age, he's into it. i mean, c'mon, you've seen the shit he's done in Teen Titans, it's like he created his own virtual reality. he likes to break apart all the mechanics and everything behind the game, study the coding and graphics. it's kinda his shtick. and he can always appreciate a good plot. he doesn't play much tho, and even when he does, he kinda sorta sucks dick at it, for some reason. it's not that he doesn't know how to use a keyboard/controller, he himself is not even sure what it is, but he can't for the life of him win a single match. it doesn't matter what you're playing. but he still likes playing with you, despite getting frustrated sometimes. and he loves that you don't laugh at him because of his failures. so yeah, despite everything, this old man can still have fun

[rose-animenz]

ZoroSan 5/11/21 (fluff /smut)

Zoro Wanted to play with Sanji’s hair. It looked soft and was the perfect length to create little braids with. He kept this small wish to himself though, if people knew they’d probably think he’s gay or a perv. It was getting dark out as the crew headed into the dining room on the Merry. It was small but it allowed them to eat together. No one but Luffy fully trusted Nico Robin, but it was the unspoken rule that they always eat together. She entered with no verbal complaints from the crew, but many doubtful looks were shot her way. Luffy, not understanding the tension spoke up.

“Come! Sit by me. Don't worry, I don't bite… unless you're made of beef, then maybe.” She laughed and strolled over to sit by the captain. They dined in silence at first but then again, Luffy couldn't read a room to save him.

“DONE! Sanji! I want more.” Sanji shot him an irritated look.

“Well, we don't have any extra. I couldn’t just leave this poor mademoiselle to starve tonight. Since I made hotpot I couldn't just ‘make more’ so the extra serving that I usually leave for you went to her.” Luffy’s stomach growled as if he hadn’t just eaten a larger serving than the rest of the crew.

Zoro, tired of the nonsense, spoke up, “Here, Luffy. You can have my serving. I'm not that hungry anyway, I've got my Sake to fill up on.” Luffy grabbed the plate from across the table without asking any more questions. Zoro left the dining area and walked around to the back of the Merry, past the tangerines. He sat down, a jug of alcohol in hand, and waited for everyone to finish eating. After what seemed like 15 minutes, he heard the door open and the footsteps of his crewmates. In the distance, he heard a conversation.

“Mmmm-- I'm sleepy guys, should we hit the sack?” that had to be Luffy.

“Might as well, we have nothing else to do.” he assumed that was Nami.

“I’ll start watch rotation tonight, it's been almost a week since I have.” Oh, great. Sanji is on watch. Zoro knew that as soon as everyone went to the sleeping quarters he was going to harass him about filling up on Sake and giving away a good meal. No one objected and he heard the footsteps become distant. Surprisingly, Sanji didn't come to Zoro.

“Maybe the cook finally learned he can't control my habits,” he whispered to himself. He sat a while longer, drinking in silence. He started thinking about braiding Sanji's hair again. Imagining doing little braids with his bangs. He imagined running his fingers through it and seeing Sanji smiling as he did so. His fantasy was interrupted by the click of a door and footsteps coming his way.

“Ah, so he is gonna scold me,” Zoro mumbled. Sanji turned the corner and walked to where Zoro was sitting cross-legged. Zoro looked at the ground already annoyed despite Sanji not saying anything yet. Sanji sat next to him and rather than starting to reprimand him, he set a plate in front of him with a sandwich. Zoro looked up towards Sanji. He was staring out at the ocean, looking calmer than usual. Zoro picked up the sandwich and began to eat silently. They sat there together for a bit until finally Zoro was finished eating. He set the plate down in front of him. They continued to sit together in silence, just staring out at the ocean.

“You really shouldn’t be drinking so much, it's bad for your health,” Sanji said, finally breaking the silence.

“So you did come to scold me! And you can’t talk. Every time I see you, you're smoking! How many packs even is that a day?”

Laughing, Sanji replied, “Okay, fine I'll shut up, and it's three.”

“Three what?”

“Three packs a day.”

Zoro looked at him with eyes filled with concern and fear. He took another large swig from his jug. They continued sitting in silence. He wanted to touch Sanji’s hair again. Maybe he could play it off as trying to get something out of it. Maybe if he gets a chance to touch it he won’t want to anymore and he won't focus on it as much. Maybe he could just ask to touch it… no that couldn't happen; either Sanji would be weirded out and leave or he would use it to make fun of him with the others. Plan A it is then.

He looked over at Sanji and reached his hand out. He grabbed a small lock of his hair and pretended that he was grabbing something small. It was soft, softer than he imagined actually. Sanji turned and looked at Zoro.

“You had something in your hair. It was bugging me.”

“Oh okay, thanks,” Sanji said, looking away, covering most of his face with his arm. It may have just looked that way since it was dark, but Zoro thought his ears were really red. He ignored it and took another large swig.

“Hey, Sanji. I want you to make me a deal.”

“Uh, what are the conditions?” Sanji replied hesitantly.

“Well, I want to do something, but you can't tell the others and you can't get weirded out.”

“And what do I get?”

“I won’t drink alcohol for three days.”

Sanji was interested in seeing how he would cope with that and accepted. Zoro turned his body and raised his hand to Sanji's head. Sanji closed his eyes and expected a slap, but was surprised when Zoro pat his head softly. He started running his fingers through it and separating it into sections.

“What are you even doing?”

“Braiding your hair,” he said in a monotone voice. He continued to section off his hair before starting to twist it into a loose braid. He continued his work until all of the hair on the front half of Sanji’s head was in braids. When he finished he moved back to his original position and took another swig.

“What was that even about…?”

“Just felt like styling it up a bit,” Zoro responded. Sanji didn't ask any further questions as he ran his fingers through to undo the braids. Once again, they sat in silence staring at the sea.

“Zoro, I want to make a deal.”

“Original today aren’t we?”

“Shut up, I’m being serious. same conditions as yours.”

“And?”

“I won’t smoke for three days,” Sanji said hesitantly.

“You literally chose the same template as mine.”

They stared at each other for a second.

“Fine, deal,” he said after a moment. Sanji moved toward Zoro looking into his eyes. Zoro couldn’t help but feel uncomfortable. Sanji raised his hand and covered Zoro’s eyes. Zoro felt to tired t even question why he did that but then his question was answered with something he didn't expect. He felt a soft peck against his lips. When Sanji removed his hand from over his eyes he looked at the pink tint dotting Sanji’s cheeks. Strangely enough, Zoro wasn’t mad. Why wasn’t he mad? Was there something wrong with him? Why did it kind of feel nice? With these questions circling in his head, he continued to stare at Sanji, who was getting redder by the second. He had to figure out why he wasn't mad, so he leaned in and kissed Sanji. This kiss was longer and had more intensity. Zoro pulled away, seeing the same red color on his ears as before. So it wasn't the dark.

Sanji’s tie fluttered down as he closed the wooden door behind them. Sanji had grabbed Zoro’s arm and led him to the dining room. Sanji wrapped his arms around Zoro’s neck and began to bite his lip.

“Are you sure that you want to? I'm not great at sex.”

“I'm not here for the sex, I’m here because it's with you.”

With that being said Zoro pushed Sanji down onto the floor next to a table leg. He began kissing him, starting from his mouth leaving a trail up to his ear and then down his neck. He began unbuttoning Sanji’s dark navy blazer and his shirt underneath. With his torso revealed, Zoro began biting and sucking on his shoulders. With each nibble, Sanji let out a small gasp. He moved down and began toying with his nipples. He grabbed each one between his index finger and thumb and began to roll them. Surprisingly he heard nothing from Sanji. Maybe guys don't like this kind of thing? He looked up and saw Sanji covering his mouth and face with his arm.

“What are you doing?” Sanji moved his arm revealing the red saturating his cheeks. His breathing was ragged and his eyes were wide. He liked it. A lot. Zoro moved back down to continue his work, taking his time teasing them, Sanji was still pretty quiet but Zoro knew how to make him louder. He took his tongue and slid it against Sanji’s erect nipples. Once again, Sanji was silent, so Zoro looked up and found him hiding in his arms again.

“If you want me to continue you’re gonna have to stop that,” he said with a low voice.

“I don't mean to… I just get embarrassed and that my instant reaction…”

“Well, I have a solution then.” Zoro retrieved the discarded button-up and used the sleeves to tie Sanji’s wrists to the table leg that was nearby. The table should be strong enough since they had to nail it down for traveling. Ignoring Sanji’s protests Zoro moved down and began unbuttoning Sanji’s pants. He pulled them down to his knees along with his boxers, freeing Sanji’s erection, which was still growing. He grabbed Sanji’s dick causing his hips to buck a little, searching for friction. Zoro’s body began to heat up. He gave it a light squeeze before stroking it, then he quickly worked himself up to a fast pace. He could hear the whimpers and moans coming from Sanji now that he had bound his hands. A loud moan escaped Sanji’s lips, and Zoro was certain he had never wanted to hear any sound again so badly in his entire life. He looked up at Sanji and gave him a smirk. He used his thumb to rub the tip and that's what pushed him over the edge. Sanji’s cum spilled into Zoro’s hand as his toes curled and his body twitched. Zoro gave him a moment to come down and enjoyed the euphoric expression while it lasted. As soon as Sanji’s body stopped twitching he lifted up his legs.

“Wait! What are you doing?”

“Don't worry, I’m just using your thighs. I still haven’t cum.”

He placed his cock between Sanji’s thighs. He began to thrust quickly letting the soft skin bring him pleasure. He moved at a pace that brought him close but not there yet. Sanji seemed to be enjoying the look on Zoro’s face as he enjoyed himself. Finally, he reached his limit and climaxed, letting his cum spill on Sanji’s stomach. He untied the button-down shirt and lied next to him.

“That was great…” Sanji said breathlessly

“Next time, I’m bringing lube.” as Zoro said this Sanji shot up and hit him in the chest.

“Were my thighs not good enough for you stupid swordsman?”

Zoro laid there quietly for a moment before replying, “actually, it was fantastic, I just want to see your reaction to different stimulation.” Sanji laughed mumbling about him being the world’s biggest perv.

1,918 words/ 10,379 characters

notes

first ever time writing smut so uh yeah

xoxo

also thx to that one anon for rec

[talkfastromance4]

2.) Without Me--Ashton Irwin ‘Lovers in a Song’ series

a/n: So while each ‘chapter’ is titled after a song it’s more of the mood and a few choice lyrics that really made the story. This story changed a lot as I wrote it but in the end it all flows really nicely together. I’m so excited to share this with you! Each part is 3,000 with the exception of the last part. Please don’t hesitate to send me messages, I’d love to hear your thoughts!

Word count: 3k

warnings: casual drinking, unprotected sex, fingering, slight angst 

Masterlist

LIAS masterlist

***

5 Years Ago

It’s raining cats and dogs on campus, the last night before graduation and Ashton is at one of the dive bars he frequented over his four years at school. There’s hardly anyone here and he’s staring at the bottle with his initials scrawled in golden loops with morose. After tomorrow when he walks across the stage, Ashton will take over the family whisky business. It’s been set in stone and passed on from generation to generation. It’s his namesake and his destiny.

“Go away! I don’t want to see you ever again and thank God after tomorrow I won’t have to!” A shrill voice erupts through the door. “Asshole!”

Ashton turns at the sudden outburst to see a beautiful girl drenched to the bone shaking off her coat before hanging it on the coat rack. Her hair hangs in wet strands reaching a little past her chest, her makeup is a bit smudged but damn, she’s a looker. Ashton’s seen her on campus and at parties but never knew her name.

She takes the seat one over from him.

“Rum and coke please, Teddy,” she asks the bartender setting her purse on the counter. She lets out a deep sigh and takes out a compact, snatches a napkin then dabs at her face. She closes the compact with a snap then smiles her thanks as her drink is presented before her. She drinks half of it in one go.

It hasn’t even been a minute and she’s already done so much to keep Ashton’s attention piqued. Who is this free-spirited woman?

“Can I help you?” her attention is directed at him, big eyes staring expectantly.

“Um, no, sorry you just…are you all right?” he asks.

“I am now,” she lifts her glass and takes another sip. “And now that my asshole boyfriend is an ex. I’m so glad I’m graduating tomorrow.”

“You are too? Congratulations,” Ashton grins and she smiles back.

“What’s your name? I’ve seen you around campus before.”

“I’m Ashton,” he holds out his hand making sure not to give his last name. Even if it is stamped on a bottle nearly six feet away.

“Cressida,” she returns and takes his hand.

Her hand is cold and wet from the rain, but a spark of electricity is transferred through them. They jump at the contact and laugh.

“I’ve never heard a name like that before.”

“My parents love Greek mythology. It means gold.”

“It’s also the third precious metal,” Ashton adds. Cressida raises her eyebrows and laughs. He only knows this because his family is trying a new concoction to add gold flakes in their newest whisky brand.

“What’s the first?”

“I have no idea,” he chuckles. “I should have paid more attention in science class. I remember gold because it’s beautiful, useful, and rare.”

“Are you sure you’re still talking about the gold or is this your Segway into a pick-up line?”

“No, no, I swear that’s not what I’m—”

“I mean it’s working in your favor, Ashton, so by all means,” she smiles interrupting his apology.

“Oh, it is, is it?”

Her eyes move to his empty glass.

“Let me buy you a drink, what’s your poison?”

Ashton doesn’t want to say whisky, it’s been on his mind since he was old enough to understand what it was. He’s also worried if he says it, Cressida will immediately know who he is. His family’s whisky is known all around the world.

“I’ll have what you’re having.”

An hour later they’re stools are so close together her legs have somehow found their way over his, and Ashton loves the warmth through his jeans. She notices the gold ring on his finger with a small ruby nestled inside.

“Is this real gold?” she asks tracing it with her pinky.

“Are you going to rob me?” he jokes.

“No, gold is only the third precious metal after all,” she giggles.

“It’s real. It was my great grandfather’s,” Ashton nods.

“It’s pretty.”

“You’re pretty.”

Cressida’s eyes sparkle up to his and the way he’s looking at her makes her stomach flip and her cheeks heat up. No one has ever looked at her with such intensity before, not even her asshole boyfriend.

“Are you doing anything between now and walking the stage tomorrow?” she asks taking a leap. Ashton shakes his head, and she leans forward, her lips grazing his cheek before touching his ear. “Wanna do me?”

Ashton slaps down some bills on the bar and moves towards the door as quick as he can helping her put her coat on. He notices there isn’t a hood, but he brought an umbrella.

“My apartment is only ten minutes away,” he says holding up his red umbrella.

They walk through the rain filled street, her arm looped through his as they talk about school and friends and what their next step is after graduation. Ashton tries to deter that conversation from him, he wants to forget about it if only for a night. And Cressida is the perfect distraction.

“I’m going to spend the summer in Europe,” she says, “I’ll be in charge of my family’s business soon, so I want a bit more freedom. I’m going to visit all of the museums and the historical landmarks.”

“That sounds really great, I wish I could do that.”

“Why don’t you?”

“I’m also taking over my family’s business as soon as I cross the stage it’s mine. It’s a big responsibility.”

She hums in acknowledgment then gasps when he stops at his building. It’s only slightly ostentatious with a secured door and a security guard inside. She’s staring at the gold mailbox slots when Ashton spins her into the elevator, she giggles against his chest. Then Ashton cups her cheek and slots his lips with hers.

She tastes like rum and coke and a night to remember, his last night of freedom. They’re stumbling through his door, removing clothes as quickly as possible. They roll around his sheets, laughing and moaning and exploring each other’s bodies. Ashton rocks into her and she moves easily, picking up on his pace like this is the hundredth time instead of the first.

“Wow,” she huffs when he collapses on top of her after he came in the condom.

“I’ll say,” he grins and pecks her nose before rolling off her to remove the condom. He retrieves two bottles of water and hands her one, climbing in next to her.

“So, Ashton,” she sighs staring at him with mussed up hair. “What is your family business?”

“I…I don’t know if I want to tell you.”

“What? Are you part of the mafia?” she snickers twisting her hair into a very loose braid. The ends of her hair tickle her nipple and Ashton slides his eyes to her face.

“No,” he laughs, “It’s just…people treat me differently when they know.”

“I can relate to that, that’s why I don’t go around shouting mine from the rooftops either. Tell me, I promise I will still look at you as the guy who picked me up at a bar because of a gold fact.”

Ashton rolls his eyes then takes a deep breath.

“All right. My family owns Irwin Whisky, my grandfather created it back in the prohibition days. After tomorrow, I’m in charge.”

Cressida is silent for a long time, just staring at him with a vacant expression on her face.

“What? What is it?” Ashton asks in alarm sitting up straight.

“Ashton, my last name is James. As in James Brandy.”

Ashton’s heart plummets to his stomach. While he was learning about whisky growing up he also learned that his grandfather started the business with his good friend, Walter James. After the prohibition was over, they joined all of their assets to get the company rolling.

Then there was a fallout due to unpaid expenses and a deal Walter made without consulting Ashton’s great grandfather Frank that could have upended the company before it really started. Ashton learned about distillery and grains and wheat and also to never, ever interact with a James’ family member. All they’ll do is double cross you and keep secrets.

And now he just had sex with his family’s enemy.

Ashton and Cressida meet each other’s eye before they both leap out of bed. He’s quickly pulling on some pants while she’s slipping her sweater over her head, both of them shouting nonsensical words in surprise.

“Why didn’t you tell me at the bar?!” she demands.

“I just told you I don’t go around saying my name because people treat me differently! You didn’t tell me yours either!”

“How was I supposed to know I was hitting on an Irwin!” she rages trying to find her pants. “No one can ever know about this; oh, my mother would kill me!”

“At least you’re going to Europe for three months,” Ashton seethes.

“You could go too, you know. Just because you’re taking over the business doesn’t mean you’re trapped,” she snaps.

“Then why are you going?”

She lets out an angry huff and throws her hands in the air. “My trip doesn’t matter right now! What matters is that we just had sex.”

“Yeah, I was there,” he rolls his eyes then stops his actions of frantically moving about. He’s not even sure why he was doing so, it’s not like the SWAT team was going to come bursting through his door. “Wait, wait, what are we doing?”

“I’m trying to find my pants so I can leave!”

Ashton rushes in front of her and grabs her shoulders, he shakes her slightly until she’s looking at him.

“No, I mean…why are we acting like the ceiling is going to collapse? Was it a mistake we did this? Probably, but I don’t regret it Cressida, not one bit. You’re…”

“I’m what?” her eyes are blazing and that’s when Ashton notices the small flecks of gold inside of them.

“You’re gold; precious and beautiful and the rarest girl I’ve ever met in my life. No one has to know about this except us,” he shakes his head.

“You’re saying ‘this’ as if ‘this’ is something…”

“It could be,” he shrugs, his eyes imploring her to meet him in the middle. “I thought this was going to be a one-time thing, but after being with you…and hearing you’re going to Europe. I want that, too.”

“You want to go to Europe with me? Ashton, we just met and found out our families are like the Montagues and the Capulets. Do you remember the ending to that story?”

“I’m not saying we share the same car to the airport where we can be seen together. I don’t want to let you go just yet.”

“Ash, this is crazy!”

“If it’s so crazy then why aren’t you still trying to find your clothes?”

She opens her mouth to retort something but closes it because she has nothing to say. Even though they just met, that spark they felt at the bar continued to his bed. It was as if they knew each other from a different life and were reconnecting all over again.

“Maybe I’ll make the mistake and book a trip to Europe and mistakenly run into you at an art museum,” he says tugging her sweater off her again. “And maybe I’ll mistakenly lose my hotel key and stay with you.”

He bends down pressing his lips to her neck where he sucked a mark only forty-five minutes ago. Cressida sighs into him, her hands holding onto his neck as he kisses the lobe of her ear.

“How does that sound?”

She can picture it. They’ll be in another country where their family won’t see unless photographers capture them, but they both aren’t the face of the name of their family business yet. They’re still young and free for a little while longer. She’s happy she stumbled into the bar where he as and that he found her when her heart was broke.

“Then be my mistake,” she sighs capturing his lips with hers and they fall back onto the bed a tangle of limbs and moans.

*

“What’s on your mind over there?” she asks while they have breakfast on the balcony. The sun is warm on their backs as they indulge in pancakes, waffles, and bacon.

“I’m thinking of Europe,” he squeezes her calf that is resting on his lap. When they woke up she didn’t bring up the night before of her crying and he didn’t either, but the axe is still hanging over their heads. It’s only a matter of time before it comes striking down.

“That was the longest we were together,” she smiles fondly at the memory of many late starts in the morning. “I loved those three months. And now we only have three—”

“Cressida, don’t,” Ashton shakes his head and sets his espresso cup on the saucer. He drags her onto his lap, and she hooks her arms around his neck and shoulders. “We’ve agreed that when we’re here, the outside world doesn’t exist. We have until Monday to face the music.”

“The music won’t shut up in my head,” she knocks her forehead against his.

“I think I can help with that,” he mutters slipping his hand under the hem of her robe.

Cressida gasps as his finger nudges her center, she tries to kiss him, but her attention is otherwise occupied on his finger that is now twiddling inside her. Her back arches as she rocks on top of him, the shoulder of her robe falls down exposing her breast that Ashton quickly sucks into his mouth. Cressida moans in pleasure from both stimulations, she spreads her legs wider and Ashton bites onto her nipple.

“So pretty when you moan,” he mumbles on her skin and adds another finger. He works her over, scissoring and twiddling against her walls as his thumb presses against her clit harshly.

“Ash!” she chokes out yanking on his hair.

“That’s right, I’m the only thing that should be on your mind. Come for me, baby.”

He moves his arm faster and her toes curl as her head spins in pleasure. She’s panting his name like a prayer then finally slips her tongue in his mouth. This kiss reminds her of their last morning in Europe. They were having breakfast and the finality of their time together loomed over them like a dark cloud. Neither one of them wanted to go because they didn’t know when the next time they’d see each other would be.

She kisses him more fiercely, trying to push that sad memory away and the dark cloud that’s above them now. Sensing her urgency, Ashton removes his fingers from inside her and carries her into the room. She drops to the bed untying her robe watching with hunger in her eyes as he removes his loose sweatpants. He’s already hard and throbbing for her.

Ashton pushes her knees to her chest, kissing over the initials he branded on her skin last night, over her navel and finally to her mouth. He pushes himself inside her, they both groan at him going in dry but he knows it won’t be long until she’s lubricated herself for him.

“You’re perfect for me,” Ashton sighs rocking his hips into hers. The dry rub is becoming more fluid as he thrusts shallowly in and out of her.

“You’re my gold,” her nails scrape into his 5 o’clock shadow and nips at his lips.

“No baby,” he gives her a deep thrust that has her moan loudly. “That’s you.”

When she’s slick enough, Ashton flips her over onto her stomach, her face pressed to the robe and her hair draped over her back gloriously.

“Ready for me, angel?” he asks gripping her hips tightly and presses between her folds.

“Always.”

Ashton drives himself into her, skin slapping against skin drifts outside in the morning breeze. He fucks into her desperately, wanting this moment to last forever and when she starts to rock back against him, he swears he sees stars. They’re frantic, it’s chaotic, it’s their secret of this love affair in physical form.

“Right there, Ash, yes!” she mewls tossing her head back.

Ashton fists his hand into her hair, tilting her head up so he can suck on her neck as he continues to plow into her. She’s choking on moans and his name, begging for her release.

“Give it to me, Cressida,” he breathes, and she falls apart at the sound of her name.

She squeezes on his cock and Ashton can’t hold on much longer from that as she relishes in her orgasm. Before he can comprehend what’s happening, he’s spilling inside her and they collapse onto the bed, their bodies slick with sweat. He’s never come inside her before, a rule they agreed on together because that would only complicate things more. But this weekend, all bets are off.

Her hair sticks to his chest and he trembles, rocking his hips until he’s finished. Ashton brushes her hair from her back, and he kisses sweetly onto her spine while Cressida gathers her breath. She gathers his fingers with hers, bringing them to her lips and kisses them. He breathes her in, a mixture of her own scent and his combined. It’s intoxicating.

“I’ll go get a towel,” he inhales heavily through his nose, the air whistling in her hair.

“Not yet…stay a little longer,” she tightens her hold on his fingers.

He stays until he feels her heartbeat slow against his hand on her chest. With one final kiss he pulls himself gingerly out of her. They both wince at the loss of warmth.

“I’m sorry. I know we agreed not to do that,” he apologizes cleaning her.

She rolls over scooting to the edge of the bed and wraps her arms around his waist. Ashton kisses her hair.

“I’m not sorry. It’s harder to let go now,” she sniffs.

“I know.”

Taglist: @calpalirwin @myloverboyash @loveroflrh @cxddlyash @princesslrh @spicylftv​ @notinthesameguey​ @itjustkindahappenedreally​ @calumance​ @thew0rldneedsmcreycghurt​ @sarcastically-defensive17​ @another-lonely-heart​ @devilatmydoor​ @thatscooibaby​ @suchalonelysunflower​ @dead-and-golden​ @mymindwide​ @blackbutterfliescal​ @redrattlers​ @karajaynetoday​ @quasighost​ @i-like-5sos​ @creampiecashton​ @calpops​ @littledrummeraussie​ @sexgodashton​ @f-mu​ @mystic-232

[atths--twice]

An Unexpected Discovery

An alternate universe in which Mulder and Scully are college professors working in buildings across from one another. They have become close, but one day, he learns something about her he never would have expected.

A couple of days ago, @msgilliana posted a tweet about an AU involving Mulder and Scully which led to a mini story being created by both of us. People asked for a REAL story, but it wasn’t my baby, I had only added a bit to an adorable idea. I suggested she and I collaborate and we two women, who were “too busy right now,” cranked out a 7,700 word story in two days. 

Hope you all enjoy! 

Fox Mulder knew the start of the new academic year could be daunting for new faculty: Am I teaching this class correctly? Is my syllabus adequate? Where the hell do I park?

When he saw one person in particular however, he knew she meant business. They never technically met, but it was more of a ‘we parked next to each other and your building is right next to mine, so we might as well chat’ situation.

“Hi,” he’d said when he saw her, the first of them to speak. He had been drawn to her beauty, her red hair causing her to stand out.

“Hello,” she’d responded.

“Are you new?” he’d asked.

She pushed a stray piece of that beautiful red hair behind her ear. “Is it that obvious?”

“Oh no, I just have an eidetic memory and haven’t seen you before.” She was impressed, and her face revealed as much before he asked another question.

“What do you teach?”

“A mix. Some general physics, some intro to modern physics. You?”

“Wow, that’s quite impressive. I teach psych. Intro, abnormal, and social. Most people think it’s a ‘soft’ science, but I think it’s pretty important.”

“Psychology is interesting to be fair. Why do people do what they do, what determines our likes and dislikes, or even hyperfixations. And that’s just scratching the surface.”

“I have never met anyone from the science department who sees it that way. It’s quite refreshing, if you don’t mind me saying.”

“Well, my sister’s very into feelings, the energy of the planets, all that kind of stuff. She and I are very close. Well… this is my building.” She pointed to the one right next to the one he would be entering.

“And this is mine. How convenient. I’ll see you around Dr…”

“Scully. Dana Scully.”

“Fox Mulder.” He offered his hand and she shook it.

“Nice to meet you, Dr. Mulder.”

“Oh please, no ‘Dr.’ That’s so boringly formal. ‘Mulder’ is fine,” he had joked with a mock shiver.

“Then you can call me ‘Scully.’” She chuckled and then smiled at him. As he stared at her, he couldn’t help but notice the presence of a beauty mark above her top lip. She had covered it with makeup and he didn’t understand why she would, it was adorable and also incredibly sexy.

Oh, maybe that’s why, he thought, knowing how men could behave.

Pushing aside those thoughts, he smiled as they reached their respective buildings and separated, walking to their offices.

Over time, they’d gotten to know more about each other. He knew she was twenty six and had received her doctorate two years prior. She was Catholic with two older siblings, a brother and a sister, the latter of whom had an interest in all things extraterrestrials, and she also had one younger brother.

Before the end of her first teaching year, they’d managed to park next to each other almost every day. They would chat for the few minutes their walk to the building afforded them, until they had to separate to their own offices. They both looked forward to that time together each day.

At the year's commencement, they had sat next to each other, and she looked extraordinarily extravagant in her doctoral robe and cap. She would say the same about him.

The following school year, they had gone from their morning chats to leaving at the same time as well. It quickly turned into one accompanying the other to their office and continuing their conversations. While almost polar opposites, they felt comfortable with each other and talked about any and everything.

Of all the little things he knew about her, the one thing Mulder knew Scully prided herself on most was punctuality. He knew she arrived in the parking lot at exactly 8:05 every Tuesday and Thursday before her first class began at 8:30. The other three days, she arrived at exactly 9:25 am for her 10 am class. His classes were all later in the day, but he came in early for office hours and to get work done before his classes.

A couple of months later, however, it was 9:27 on a Wednesday morning and she was nowhere to be found. In the nearly one and a half years since she’d been teaching, Scully had never been late. Though he was curious, he decided to head into his office and start his day.

His work, however, didn’t hold his attention. He couldn’t stop thinking about her. What was she doing? Was she sick? Was there a family emergency? She had mentioned that her siblings lived all across the country. Her older brother Bill was in California where he was stationed with his wife Tara. Melissa was traveling, “finding herself” Scully had stated with a slight eye roll, and Charlie was in New York with his girlfriend Elaine. Her parents were in Annapolis, about an hour's drive from the school.

Shaking himself out of his reverie, he decided to email her, something he’d never done nor had any need to do.

Scully,

Are you okay?

Mulder

He forewent formalities because he felt they were on friendly enough terms, or at least he had assumed so. They hadn’t ever socialized outside of school events, but he had lost count of the high school and college friends he no longer spoke to or had only seen on campus.

He was about to get ready to teach his first class of the day when he checked his email one more time and saw a reply from her.

I’m fine.

Nothing further, not even her name, but at least he now knew she was okay. Or at least, Mulder hoped so. She would’ve said if something was wrong.

Right?

He didn’t sleep well that night, his brain unable to stop thinking and wondering if she was okay.

The next day, she still hadn’t arrived on time. He was in his office, about to send her another email, when he heard a car door slam around 8:15. The building was fairly soundproof, but the windows were not.

Curious, he got up from his desk and looked out the window. Seeing Scully’s car, he immediately smiled. She was a little late, but she was there. His brows then furrowed when she opened the door to the backseat. Bending inside, she was there for nearly a minute.

When she pulled back, he let out a gasp as she had reappeared with a small child in her arms. He could see the little girl was limp and appeared to be asleep. Observing Scully’s struggle to get her bags from the front seat while also carrying the child, he quickly left his office.

He tried to keep his pace slow, so as to not disrupt his colleagues, but his mind was racing with a million questions. Mulder made it outside, but didn’t see Scully. Assuming she must’ve gotten to her office already, he hurried up the stairs; he was out of breath when he reached the third floor.

Looking around, he heard a ding, announcing the arrival of the elevator down the hall. The doors opened and he spotted her shining red hair as she exited the elevator, and turned toward her office. Speed walking, he made it to her office at the same moment that she did.

“Oh, God. Mulder, you scared me,” she whispered when she saw him, breathing quickly as she reached for her keys.

“Sorry,” he whispered, matching her volume.

Scully took a minute to find her keys, only having one hand free for the action. She finally got her office unlocked, the little girl sleeping through it all. Propping the door open, she left the light off and set her bags down, a bright pink Dora the Explorer backpack standing out. She picked it up and held it out to him.

“Can you…” she asked him, nodding at the child in her arms.

“Oh. Um, sure. What…”

“Her blanket, please.”

He unzipped the bag and pulled out a small blue blanket with Thomas the Train across it. Versatile, I like it, thought Mulder. He couldn’t help but feel his heart grow as he watched the way she was with the little girl he assumed had to be her daughter.

“Mommy…” the toddler suddenly croaked.

“Shh, baby, it’s okay.” Scully’s voice was soothing and soft for the girl as she ran a hand across her daughter’s long loose curls. It was different from her no-nonsense, low-pitched professor voice, and it made his heart ache.

She mouthed a thank you to Mulder and took the blanket from him. The little girl whimpered as she was covered in the blanket and snuggled closer to her mother. Scully rocked her and smiled at Mulder.

“I’m sure you have some questions.”

“Just a few.”

She sighed and looked at her child. “Please, sit.”

He obeyed, watching as she carefully sat in her leather desk chair.

“How old is she?” Mulder asked.

“Almost three.”

“Wow, you’ve got your hands full. What’s her name?”

“Emily.” Scully smiled as she rubbed Emily’s back over the blanket.

Awkward silence washed over them as they both ignored the elephant in the room. Scully wasn’t married and didn’t wear a ring. She had never talked about her child before, let alone a partner that could be the child’s father.

“You’ve shared so much, why not her?”

She sighed again. “I don’t know. I guess I thought… that you would judge me. Everyone else sure does, except Missy and Charlie.”

“You know I’d never.”

“I do, but I was also worried. And I guess I wanted to keep her secret for as long as possible.” She avoided his gaze as she spoke.

“I don’t want to sound insensitive, but I do have one more burning question…”

“You want to know about her dad,” Scully guessed and he looked at her sadly and shrugged, not speaking the words, but obviously curious.

“His name’s Ethan and he had been my boyfriend since grad school. I found out I was pregnant the day I defended my dissertation. We broke up about halfway through my pregnancy. He hadn’t ever wanted children, but also didn’t want to use protection. I… well… now Em’s here. That’s the extremely simplified version.”

Mulder’s eyes were wide as he took in the information. He thought she was pretty badass to be able to raise a kid on her own. He could also hear how she may feel shame about it, because of others' comments and also how society tended to treat women who were single parents.

She sighed and he realized that he hadn’t said anything in response. Feeling like a bit of a jackass, he opened his mouth to speak, but she suddenly stood up and shook her head.

“Sorry to cut this short,” she said, glancing at her watch. “But my first class starts soon and I need to get her stuff to bring.”

He shook his head and stood as well. “I can watch her, if it would make it easier for you.”

“Oh, no. I couldn’t-“

“I insist. Besides, I don’t think she’ll like listening to her mother talk about super smart science stuff.”

“It’ll probably bore her to death,” she agreed with a chuckle.

“Then it’s settled then.”

“Are you sure?” Her expression gave away her uncertainty, her eyes searching his face.

“Really, I’d love to. I promise we’ll just stay in here while you teach.”

“You need to be in your office, Mulder. I can’t do that to you.”

“Then we can go to mine. Look, Scully, I promise we’ll be okay, okay?”

She sighed for the third time. “Okay. I should wake her though, let her know I’m leaving and let her see you. I don’t want her waking up without me and crying. Hey, Em,” she said softly, gently patting her back, waking the child.

“Mama…”

“Hey honey, Mama has to teach her class now. You’re going to spend some time with Mulder today, okay? He’s mommy’s friend.”

The toddler lifted her head and looked at him fearfully, tears running down her cheeks.

“Hey, Emily,” Mulder greeted. “It’s nice to meet you. Do you like Dora? She’s pretty cool.” Emily didn’t answer, but embraced Scully tighter.

“I know baby, but Mommy really needs to get to class. Mulder is a very nice man and he will take care of you. He has fish in his office. Do you want to see them?” She nodded, her eyes still full of tears.

Emily was gently passed to Mulder, Scully making sure she was wrapped in her blanket. The little girl sniffed and whimpered as she watched her mom blow her a kiss and then leave the room, thanking him once again.

“Would you like to go on a trip, Emily?” he asked, hoping to ease the tension. She looked at him, her expression unsure and still slightly fearful. “Let’s go see the fish, okay?” She nodded and he beamed.

He grabbed her backpack and swung it onto his back, closing the door to Sculy’s office as they walked out. He locked the door with the keys he’d taken off her desk, knowing she would come to his before coming back to her own.

Emily was trembling slightly in his arms and he held her closer as they walked to the elevator.

“Would you like to go outside? It feels nice out today.”

Emily slowly nodded her head, her thumb on the tip of her bottom lip, as she put her head on his shoulder. He stepped out of the elevator and then the building. He walked into the little courtyard separating the science and education/psychology buildings. The little girl lifted her head just enough to look around.

“‘Nola,” Emily said quietly, as she pointed with her little finger.

“What was that, Em?” Mulder asked, at a loss of what she was trying to say.

“‘Nola,” she repeated louder.

He looked at the direction she was pointing and chuckled when he realized what she meant. “Oh, you like the magnolia tree?”

Mulder was impressed by her intelligence. Of course, her mother had gotten her doctorate at twenty-four, which was not common amongst the other faculty. Even he hadn’t received his until just before she had started teaching, and he was thirty, nearly thirty-one.

“You’re very smart, Emily,” Mulder praised, but the little girl was uninterested. She put her head back on his shoulder, falling asleep before they made it to the office.

As he arrived at the door, he realized he had left his door unlocked when he found it hanging open and one of his teaching assistants, Tyler, was grading papers.

“Oh, sorry Dr. M, but the door was unlocked and…” Tyler started, but was confused as he saw Emily in his arms.

“I’m watching her for a friend,” Mulder said simply, putting her backpack down on the desk. Tyler nodded and went back to grading papers.

Emily continued to sleep, Mulder holding her as he sat down at his desk. Even as he held her, he managed to send a slowly-typed email to a student about the midterm, enter the test grades Tyler had given him, and sent out an announcement to the class about their extra credit assignment.

Looking down at Emily, he smiled. Other than her blonde hair, she was a mirror image of Scully and he couldn’t imagine anyone but her having a sweeter child.

Tyler left soon after he was done grading, smiling and nodding silently as he walked out the door. Emily began to stir, her eyes slowly opening and taking in her surroundings.

“Hey there, Em,” he said softly, and the toddler mumbled, clutching her blanket closer.

“Do you want to see the fish now?” She nodded and he stood up, his back protesting at the position he had been in for the past forty five minutes. He shifted her to hold her better and walked across the room to show her the fish.

“Oh!” she said, watching the fancy guppies he had bought swimming around the tank. “Fishies!” She pointed at the tank and he grinned.

“Yup! Those are fancy guppies. Can you say guppy?”

“Guppy.”

“Good job,” he said, smiling again and rubbing her back. “See that one there? The blue one with the red spotted tail? That’s my favorite one. Watch how fast he swims.”

“Fish swim fast,” she agreed with a nod and he chuckled, shifting her again.

“They are fast. Good job, Em! Gimme five.” She laughed as she lifted her tiny hand and met Mulder’s large one.

“Having fun?” Scully asked and they turned to look at her, standing in the doorway with a smile.

“Mommy!” Emily said, trying to scramble out of Mulder’s arms. He laughed as he set her down and she ran to Scully, who lifted the squealing toddler in her arms.

“Hey, baby.” Scully kissed Emily’s cheek and looked at Mulder. “Were you good for Mulder?”

Emily vigorously nodded her head while Mulder laughed. “She was very good. She’s a smart kid.”

“She takes after her mother.” The two adults smiled and Emily wrapped her arms around Scully’s neck. “Thank you for looking after her. I only had the one class today, but she was sick yesterday and I had babysitter problems and-“

“I promise it was no trouble and completely my pleasure. She slept most of the time, but she liked the fish. The guppies, right Em?”

“Guppy,” she said with a nod, pointing at the tank. “Guppy fish, Mommy.”

“Yes, I know. I knew you would like them.” Scully smiled. “Hey, are you free tonight?”

“Umm. I… no, I mean yes I’m free.”

“Well, let me buy you a drink. It’s the least I can do to thank you for your help.”

His heart raced. This was the moment he’d been waiting for since he had first looked at her.

“Um, sure, I mean… yeah, I’d love to,” he stammered.

Great job, doofus, he admonished himself, inwardly rolling his eyes.

“Great. I’ll sort out a babysitter for tonight and I’ll see you at six? I’ll send you my address.”

If he didn’t know any better, he’d think Scully was inviting him out on a date. Did she see it that way? They’d never spent time together outside of university functions, but he hoped she’d see it as a date, as he would love for it to be so.

He smiled as he nodded and she smiled back. She lifted Emily a little higher, telling her about her class as Emily continued staring at the fish. The way she doted on her daughter and how her red hair shone in the light, he could feel he was already falling for her.

Yeah… he was in big trouble.

[feeling-weirdy]

A lighter prompt- team bonding. After training, Sam cranks up some music and they’re taking turns showing off moves. Vision is told to show his stuff... do the robot... but his apprehension and awkwardness quickly kills the mood. Apparently Vision can’t dance. The team disperses, but Wanda lingers to console him. He confides he prefers another genre of dance and offers to show her, if she’s willing to be his dance partner.

“Alright, training’s over.  Time for a little unwinding.”  Sam’s voice carried through the rest of the room, casually strolling over to the radio to throw on some tunes.  Upbeat music poured out from the speakers, instantly causing several of their teammates to break out into their dance moves.  Vision’s watched them curiously, taking note of their individual styles that were uniquely them.  It was sure to be an interesting evening with plenty of data to accumulate.

“I’m not so sure this is such a good idea,” Vision stated plainly, sitting on the couch as he peered over at the others.

“Oh come on, a little moving and grooving aren’t gonna hurt you,”  Tony laughed, moving his arms in an ungodly fashion that was far beyond anything he had researched online.  There was probably a reason for that.

Sam chortled, his smooth swaying to the rhythm was nothing short of what Vision had imagined.  The man made his way over to Tony, clearly captivated by Tony’s strange gyrating. “Tony, that depends on if you keep that up or not.”

“Clearly, you just don’t know what good dancing is,” Tony shot back with a huff.

“Clearly.”  Sam laughed again, decidedly moving on to someone else.

Wanda made her way over to the couch, catching his attention instantly.  Her soft demeanor kept her at a short distance, nervously trying to stay away from the rest of their comrades as they paired off to enjoy themselves.

“You don’t wanna dance?  After all that practicing we did?”  Her smile lit up the room, a welcome change from how she had been feeling over their time together so far.  She had slowly begun to heal and nothing delighted Vision more than to see her smile.  Vision’s confidence in his dancing had left far little to be desired, despite their rehearsing.  Though turning her down would be one of the most difficult things he’s had to do in his short life, especially with the way she was eyeing him.

“It perhaps would be better to leave the dancing to the professionals,” he admitted.  Dancing in the privacy of the bedroom was one thing, but out here with the others was a completely different story.

“Oh, come on.  Don’t be like that.”  Wanda reached down and grabbed hold of his hand, reluctantly pulling him to his feet.  “It’s just about having fun.”  Refusing to let go of his hands, Wanda swayed to the music in relatively sporadic patterns.  It became difficult to really figure out exactly what he was supposed to be doing in response.  There was no path to follow, no rhyme or reason for their movements.

“I’m not so sure...”  Vision’s voice trailed off, trying to follow along with his partner’s movements to the best of his ability. 

“You got it!  Stop thinking about it and just do it,” she chuckled, keeping herself moving in front of him.  He did his best, but he was certain he was failing. 

Tony scoffed from the other side of the room, moving closer to the pair with a wide grin.  “Those are about the lamest dance moves I’ve ever seen, tin man.”

“You’re one to talk,” Wanda spat, shooting him an irritated look in his defense.  Vision couldn’t help but chuckle at her sudden reaction.  Vision was in agreement with Tony at this moment, however, he couldn’t help but enjoy the fact that she seemed so adamant that he kept trying.

“You were expecting something like the robot, I assume?” Vision asked him, happy to add on.

Tony exhaled loudly, crossing his arms as he looked back and forth between the pair.  “Frankly, yes and I feel like we've been robbed of that.”

“I'm sorry to disappoint you.  I know very little about dancing, but Wanda insists.”

“Isn’t that sweet?”  Sam audibly retches, chuckling softly as he shares a look with Tony.

“Get the hell out of here and leave him alone.”  Wanda conjures a ball of red magic to her fingertips, tossing it in his direction in an attempt to scare him off.  Vision smiled. 

“Geez, touchyyy.”  Tony scoffs, nodding slowly.  “Time to pack it up.  Wouldn’t want miss witch to get all Mommy Dearest on us.”  Vision’s attention returned to Wanda’s as the rest of the group disappeared into the rest of the compound.  A small twinge of pride welled up inside of him as he watched her slowly become confident in her power.  It had been a great source of fear and yet, she seemed to handle it quite well.  She still had a long way to go, but she was definitely improving.

“I appreciate that,” Vision breathed.  The two had stopped dancing long ago, distracted by the nonsensical attitude of the rest of their teammates.  Their fingers remained intertwined, however, eyes boring into the other like an unstoppable force. 

The corners of his lips curled inward, breaking their fingers lock as he moved his hand around her waist and around to the small of her back.

“Yeah well...no one deserves to be ridiculed like that.  You’re trying your best and that’s all anyone asks for, right?”  Wanda’s disposition immediately switched now that they were alone.  These were the moments that Vision most cherished, away from the noise and antagonizing of the rest.  Moments where Vision was able to have her all to himself.

His eyes shot upward, quickly checking to ensure they were indeed alone.  A quick scan of the room gave him that answer.  “Yes well...I may not have been entirely forthcoming about my abilities.  I may have been practicing in my free time...without you.”

“Without me?”  Her hand shot up to her chest, a dramatic embellished gasp escaping from her lips. 

Keeping his right hand on her back, he pushed her toward him, gripping onto her hand with his left.  He pushed her forward, her body pressed against his as they easily maneuvered in the small space they had created for themself.  Vision knew that he was by no means a professional, but the little bit that he had researched had definitely helped him come up with a perfect rhythm that was easy enough for Wanda to follow along with.

Their eyes remained focused on one another, her steely eyes beaming with happiness as her free hand rested along his chest.  The warmth of her hand pushing beneath the loose fabric of his sweater caused a tightening sensation within his chest.

Vision tried to keep himself together, desperate to finish the small number of moves he had learned from the internet.  He leaned her back, dipping her in the same fashion the man on the screen had showed him.  With all the excitement, it was clear why humans enjoyed this activity.  Dancing allowed you to be almost unnaturally close with the ones you enjoyed holding and with the strange feeling bubbling up inside of him, he was far from displeased.

“Wow...” Wanda breathed, grinning wildly up at him as he pulled her back to her feet.

“I still have a long way to go, but I hope that wasn’t too unpleasant.”  Vision pulled away from her, slowly dropping his hands.

Wanda chuckled.  “I think you’re better than you think you are.”

Vision’s face scrunched, laughing softly.  “I believe you are far too nice for your own good.”

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